Phoenix Maplewood and with that timber, burn a hundred fires

blink and pop and pain like she'd never felt it, the sudden absence of feeling coupled with hot fire. the woman snarls but it sounds too much like a scream for her own liking, she surges against him with wild fury that her hunger-carved body can not express. fangs close around her neck and the woman calls, notes surging from her throat in desperate call. the plains are too far for the strained summons to stretch; yet surely there must be others in the wood.

somehow, limbs rather below her and she pushes back blindly, head pulling back and not caring that she exposes her throat; the man already has hold. she ought to have followed the rabbit as it fled; and now can only clash against the titan as blood flows opening from the ragged remains of an ear.